Snow
by VAdarkwind
Summary: "She hated snow, and he thought it was cute how she hated it." NILEY. One-shot.


**Snow**

She hated snow, and he thought it was cute how she hated it.

He loved the way the light snowflakes would fall and promptly melt on their intertwined fingers—to him, her hand held the warmth of the entire universe. And no matter how much she complained about the snow, he knew it was special to her, too, because when they had spent their first Christmas together, it had snowed—she hated snow before then, of course, and Nick didn't understand why.

Or maybe he did—maybe she hated it because he threw a snowball at her once.

He turned towards her, and a soft smile graced her lips. He was mesmerized at the way she moved. The slight turn of her head let them lock eyes, as they had done a million times before. He leaned closer to her, feeling his breath hitch, and he pressed his lips against her cheek. She shivered and closed her eyes, concealing the most stunning of ocean-blue eyes.

He removed his fingers from hers, but before she could shoot him a questioning look, he draped that arm around her shoulders. She smiled delicately, reminding him once again how vulnerable she truly was, despite how strong she seemed, and rested her head in the crook of his arm. They were like yin and yang and completed each other. She was so warm despite the cold weather.

She lifted her head and smiled shyly at him, and he smiled contently. She took him by surprise as she pressed her lips against his. He lifted his hands to her hair, letting the long tendrils of warm light brown get tangled in his fingers. He kissed her passionately, enjoying the way her lips felt against his—the most powerful mixture of fire and rain, more than just butterflies, stronger than jumping out of a plane.

She pulled back with a playful smile and a teasing look in her eyes. He smiled at her and tucked some stray locks of her hair behind one ear, only to have them immediately blown back in her face. She laughed lightly, blue eyes shining, and Nick cupped her face delicately, like she was a fragile flower barely surviving in the cold depths of winter and on the brink of death.

She looked up as a fresh fall of flakes dusted their faces. "I _hate_ snow," she grumbled.

"Why?" he asked her. "Snow if beautiful. It coats everything in pure white and blankets everything… like a canvas on which one could paint something of their own devising." She smiled at him, and he felt a lazy smile tug on his lips. "What? It's not my fault I feel more inspirational around you." He smiled as a few flakes landed in her hair. He touched the locks tenderly.

"Name _one thing_ snow is good for," she demanded, gaze still doubtful. He shifted uncomfortably, and she smirked. "Ha! I'm right, aren't I?" She smiled happily as she waited for his answer, and he averted his gaze, thoughtful. "I knew it—you couldn't think of anything. Snow, and the whole season of winter in general, is just absolutely useless."

His gaze lit up. "I've got it!" he exclaimed. "Snow is _perfect_ for _this!"_

Before she could open her mouth to ask for elaboration, he scooped up a pile of snow and thrust it at her face. Her mouth fell open in shock—and cold—and she was still staring in disbelief. He grinned, and she hissed, "This isn't funny," right before he scooped up some more snow and tossed it at her, still grinning. Another bout of laughter from him followed the snow.

"This is war!" she growled.

His mouth fell open in shock as she shoved him to the ground and sat on top of him, pressing him against the oh so cold snow. He watched her nervously, and she demanded, "Surrender."

He smirked. _"Never."_

The two tussled on the snow, and he managed to pin her down. She glared as soft flakes collected in her hair. She shoved at his chest, once, twice, three times, but to no avail. He watched her, amused, as she continued to struggle and flail around. Then, he leaned down and kissed her. Her mouth responded with no hesitation, and he smiled against her lips.

She ran a hand through his curly locks, smiling. "Get off." He shook his head. _"Nickyyyy, please?"_ she whined.

He shook his head once more and froze as her fingers caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes, warmth washing down his spine. She smiled a little at him, continuing to stroke his cheek. Her touches were feather-light, and she leaned upward to kiss his cheek. He sighed contentedly. "You'll be the death of me," he grumbled as he rolled off of her.

She smiled and dusted snow off her clothes. "I'm _freezing_ —thanks a lot."

"So am I," he responded, grinning.

Then, he scooped her up in his arms. She squealed and demanded he put her down, but he ran around the park carrying her. She squirmed uncomfortably in his arms before he finally put her down. She huffed slightly and shoved him into the snow, crossing her arms defiantly. He shrugged mischievously before getting up and kissing her softly, caressing her gently.

She pouted. "If I lose a finger to frostbite, you're dead."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "You're _not_ going to get frostbite."

She smiled softly. "You think?"

A smile tugged at his lips. "I _know."_

She closed her eyes and pressed her shivering body into his arms, and his arms curled instinctively around her shuddering body. She was cold, and fierce determination wormed its way into his body. "I'm going to miss this," she whispered. He closed his eyes sadly. She was right. They could spend the day together... and then, they had to go on with their own lives.

"Me, too," he breathed. "More than you'll ever know."

She pulled away to meet his eyes. He was struck by the intensity of her blue gaze. She was his, all his. She was famous, the star of the hit TV show "Hannah Montana," the pop sensation, the gorgeous teenager, the inspirational singer. Everyone loved her, loved her music, loved the way she was so kind, just loved _her,_ every part of her.

But she was vulnerable—and not a lot of people knew that.

She had let Nick in, and he had regarded her trust of the utmost importance. Whatever they talked about stayed between them—he would _die_ before even do so much as _thinking_ about betraying her. Her soul was beautiful, and she was the girl everyone loved, sometimes wistfully, because she was so beautiful. But Nick loved the way she was, the way she was honest often to the point of brutality, the way she would wrinkle her nose adorably when she was confused, the way she would tap her foot to any sort of beat almost subconsciously.

He kissed her slowly and passionately, and warmth spread from his mouth to hers. She smiled against his lips, and he rested his hands thrillingly on her waist. There were so many reasons why they shouldn't be there, enjoying each other's company. She had a tour, and he had a movie. It had taken so much begging to give them even _one_ day.

He had missed her so much.

The snow had lightened, and Nick smiled as she ran her fingers through his curls. He lifted her into the air briefly, twirling her around. This time, she smiled a bit wistfully, as if she knew how little time they had left to spend together. He laced his fingers through hers. Today was about them—and _only_ them. He had put his phone on silent, and she had, too.

She shivered, and her grip tightened on his hand. "Let's go inside," he offered, noticing her trembling figure.

She nodded, and he led her into the warmth of his car. It wasn't really that warm in the car, but it was warmer than outside. She was still trembling, and he pulled her lithe body against his. She felt so small in his arms, and slivers of blue cut through gray skies outside, reminding him of her eyes. His numb fingers caressed her cheek, and he pressed his lips against hers.

She shivered as they deepened the kiss. Then, she pulled away gently, smiling. She leaned against his chest and hummed a little.

He closed his eyes, lingering in the bliss of the moment with her. She was so, so special to him. He knew he was in love. There was a difference between friendship love, sibling love, and relationship love. This was definitely the relationship kind. He had a brotherly/sisterly love with Demi and a friendship love with Selena. His feelings for Miley were so much more than just friendship.

He always wanted to be around her—and not just because she had a charisma that drew others to her. She was like his own personal flame dazzling in the dark, outshining the brightest of lights. Her eyes reminded him of the ocean, and whenever she looked at him, her eyes would light up just a little more. She had an ethereal sort of beauty, too surreal to seem true.

He closed his eyes as a tight, unwanted memory swept through him—the memory when they had their first fight. He remembered feeling like his entire world was collapsing down on him, he remembered crying as the fight continued, and then crying even harder after they both said words they didn't mean. And he remembered waking up with a cold ache in his chest at the thought of losing her.

Her humming stopped. She craned her neck to look at him. "Why are you so tense?"

"I don't want to lose you," he answered honestly.

A slight sad smile curled on her lips. "I'm right here," she murmured. "I'm right here..."

"And I'm so scared of needing you so much," he whispered. "You're my personal air... When we fought... the only thing that got me through the day was listening to your music, watching you on TV or YouTube, or basking in our memories." He was slightly surprised at his honesty, but he realized that his words were truer than anything he had ever said before.

"I thought I was drowning," Miley whispered, "when we fought." He wrapped his arms around her. "Don't let go," she whispered.

"I'll never let you go," he vowed fiercely.

She leaned into his chest and closed her eyes. Her scent wreathed around him, making him feel so at home. He could've been in a jail cell, but if he was with her, he wouldn't care _where_ they were, as long as they were together. Of course, some places were more preferable, but he took any time he spent with her as if they'd only ever have that time.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

He pressed his lips against hers, letting himself lose himself in her sweet, sweet scent. It was more than just lust, but there was that, too. There was love and light and magic and life and everything else that made the world worth living in with that one kiss. Exhilaration raced through him. Then, she leaned into his chest again.

She smiled softly, and he said, "Hmm?"

"Just listening to your heart," she murmured.

He smiled at her. "Miley?"

"Nick?"

"I love you."

She smiled, and her angelic voice filled the air. "I love you, too."

* * *

 **A/N: Just a little one-shot I threw together in a little more than half an hour. x3 Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it.  
**

 **R &R? Tell me your thoughts? I appreciate it though you don't _need_ to. But who _doesn't_ love reviews? ;)**

 **\- Darky**


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